More Than Nothing
by AirGuitaringKlavierGavin
Summary: Ash Crimson collapses in front of a dormitory building after an escape from Mukai's control. How will a sociology major show him the path to his true self? Rated T for some minor clothing issues and some strong sociological issues...
1. Prologue: Cipher in the Ice

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the King of Fighters characters or locations used in this work of non-profit fanfiction. Even if you do sue me, all you're getting is a few random pens and some sketchbooks. However, I do own Cricket, her classmates, and her professors and most of the locations used. You steal, I sue you for a pretty penny, capiche?

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Authornotes: FSK: Okay...now tell them, Ash!

Ash: Um...yeah. Zis is Cricket's little sociological experiment-a-majigger...-cough-

FSK: Kyo...

Kyo: Um...and no Ash, Kyo, or random object was harmed in the making of this fic...other than the broken chopstick that is lodged in Cricket's boot.

FSK: Beni...

Beni: Um...uh...Read and review. Cricket thrives on reviews.

FSK: There. You three may go now...Um...the name of the prologue is derived from something I read in one of my Sociology textbooks. Some of the stuff was a total reference and homage to it. There. I said it.

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Prologue: Cipher in the Ice

It started with a finding on an icy cold January afternoon. I was reading my sociology textbook as I did most ordinary afternoons while resting in my dormitory. The wind blew freezing rain against my window and I could hear footsteps down below on the sidewalk that suddenly stopped, which I thought was odd, and I was curious as I had ran downstairs to see what it was. A young man collapsed against the door, shifted, and slid down into the snowbank that had been at the door for a while. I pried open the door and reached for him. His alabaster skin was pale even against the snow and ice surrounding him, but I could still feel a pulse.

"Wake up?" I whispered, shaking him slightly.

Another girl gave me a strange look as she started walking up the sidewalk, but I didn't register it at first. "Get a doctor, quick, Mina!"

"You sure? He looks dead." Mina looked down at the young man's still form. "He never even said a thing to me when we walked near each other. Just smiled at me weakly and said real quiet, 'I'm sorry...am I in your way, Madamoiselle?' That's all. So polite and apologizinglike..."

Once inside the building, the quiet, shuffling, lonely noise seemed to echo. I could see the pale face of the young man regaining more color as we moved to the elevator, then down the hall to my dorm. I passed a group of the athlete girls. "Who is it? Who are you carrying?" I heard one of the girls ask me.

"Don't know his name. I found him in the snowbank outside the door," was my reply.

After we got to the solitude of my room, I removed the man's jacket and pants, leaving his underpants and his black turtleneck on, I didn't want him to catch hypothermia; I then wrapped a blanket around him and let him lie in my bed. He was eerily quiet, but strangely strong-willed to live. I almost asked myself "Why Me?" as I sat and reflected, but something in me told me not to. Soon, I could hear the sound of a body stirring and a slight whimper. I turned back to see him sitting up, wrapped tightly in the blanket as though he were shielding himself.

The small dorm room was messy and chilly. I blurted out the news of my finding him somehow. He reached blindly for the footboard. "I do not remembair anyzing about collapsing."

I blinked, then pushed my chemistry book aside. "Now wait..." The young man whispered softly. "_Vous_ do not 'ave to do zat on mon account...Zere is not a zing zat _vous_ can do now for me anyway. If I were not so weak, I'd have not dropped in front of zis building..."

Intrigued, I turned bleakly to my computer and asked him to tell me about himself. He told me meager scraps here and there, but would avoid speaking about his recent past, except slight small snippets. The name Mukai kept coming up, which worried me. This Mukai figure couldn't be good.

How does one go about making a young man into a zero? Hearing the past of the young man whose name was Ash showed me. Before he had known Mukai, he was joyous, happy, and innocent as a child. Then his mentions of Mukai opened up the attack. He'd said that Mukai called him "a worthless being with no true soul. Foolish. Unable to redeem." Soon, the other members of the organization Ash had belonged to followed suit with such words as "weak and spineless"; "slow-witted"; "a true idiotic human." His strength now was like that of a child. But his strength in his past, according to him, had been above average. That strength didn't go down until he met Mukai. Even happy, innocent youths have resilience. It takes a long time to break them.

I typed furiously and wrote a harsh learning file pointing out what the organization which Mukai had headed had done to Ash Crimson. I sent a copy to Jay Harley, my sociology professor, and put another on my USB key. I shoved my laptop and slammed my drawers and crashed my door shut, but I didn't feel much better. The frail young man followed behind me: a small, rail-thin blond boy with a pallid alabaster face; a thin body in crimson slacks; and big, shimmering blue eyes that had looked for a long time but became veiled.

I could guess how many times he'd been chosen last to help in a mission, how many whispered adult conversations that had excluded him, how many times he'd not been asked. I could see and hear the faces and voices that said over and over, "You're weak, you're dumb. You're nothing, Ash Crimson."

A human is a believing creature. Ash undoubtedly believed them. Suddenly, things became clear to me: When he thought that there was nothing left for him, he collapsed in front of my dorm building to await his fate. Had I not saved him, he would be dead, and that changed my mind.

I wasn't about to let Ash be alone and forgotten. He would be my challenge day after day, minute after minute. I glanced into his eyes carefully that day, looking for a semblance of a smile. "Look, Ash," I said to myself, "I may not do anything else for you, but you're not going to leave my side a nobody. I'll work or fight to the bitter end doing battle with society and this organization you say you came from, but I won't have you leaving me thinking you're a zero."

This time--yes, this time, unlike every other time--I was confident to succeed.


	2. Chapter 1: Not Alone

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own the copyright to KOF or the characters thereof. I am just borrowing them for this fan fiction and even if I were sued, all you'd get is random pens and sketchbooks with no available drawing space. Except one...

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Authornotes: FSK: As the others have a cold except Ash...who's currently torturing...erm taking care of them, Leona and I will do this..

Leona: This is just a continuation of that little social experiment that blondie over there started on...um...no one except her was harmed in the making of this...and that's only because she gives herself carpal tunnel all the time...Oh. And Ash isn't the only one in this fic that's been broken...

FSK: ...AHEM. That's enough spoilers, Soldier!

Leona: That and her stupid chem professor hates her.

FSK: Um...READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! I THRIVE ON THE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM OF OTHERS! Oh...and enjoy. Hope you don't mind the occasional POV change here. _Italics indicate thoughts_.

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Chapter 1: Not Alone

Ash's POV

My hazy eyes would not remove themselves from the strange female in front of me; it was almost as though I were afraid at that moment. After all, she could just be buying time to send me back to--Oh how I never want to go back to him!--Mukai, who had forced me into "Those From the Past" in order to exploit my talents. I remember it all too well--things I'd not even tell that strangely friendly blond. She didn't need to know.

"You're...quiet," She said softly, a rather pitying look in her eyes. "If you don't want to talk, I won't force you to...but...if you ever do, I'm here to listen."

I narrowed my eyes and hissed. "Comment je sais vous ne me rapporterez pas là...?"1

She gave a grave look, pushing her eyeglasses down. Whether or not she understood my French, I know not. The one thing I did understand was this: she came closer and gave me the coldest look I've seen from such a friendly-seeming person.

"Don't you EVER say something like that again. I would NEVER take a person back to the place they feared--to the person that broke their spirit..." She snapped, tears running down her face. I turned my face aside somewhat, fearing that perhaps she would slap me, or worse, that she would beat me senseless. However, she did something unexpected. She turned around, clenching a fist and bringing it up to her chest. "Listen, Ash. I don't ever want to feel as worthless, as powerless as I did back then..."

"Ce qui? 2 Wh-what happened?" I asked hesitantly.

"I was fifteen years old when my father died. My mother was never around--she'd died when I was about six months old--and Dad fell ill when I was ten. I took care of him as best I could--took him to the doctor when he needed it, took him to the hospital when he needed it, worked two part-time jobs--I had a paper route and I faked my age to work at Burger Barn--just to earn the money to get his medicine, and, in the end, I still couldn't save him. I couldn't save the one person that mattered to me back then...and I'll be damned if I let someone else die...whether they die from the soul out to the body or from the body in to the soul..." The girl whispered. "I, Cricket Meliflu, will never let another person down like I let my father down..."

My eyes had somehow found themselves full of tears. Why? Why was I suddenly feeling that I could trust this girl like I would have trusted my parents? I softly whispered. "Tout seul comme moi...3"

"Hnn?" She turned around. "What...did you say?"

"All alone...like me..." I whispered, my eyes still seeming to well with tears.

My mind seemed to wander back. I remember it so clearly...

_"Ashteunne! Ashteunne!" I could hear my father calling._

_"Papa!" A small, raspy voice tried to cry out._

I would know that voice anywhere; it was me at the age of five. My senses all seemed to be taken in by that memory. I could see the French countryside, hear my family and myself, smell the early spring air, taste the sweets, and feel everything--including a scratchy pain in my throat.

_"Ashteunne! Se repose...mon mioche familier..._4_" My father smiled, his voice so soothing as he took me into his arms._

_I nuzzled into his chest, happy to be in the warmth of my father's arms._

_I could hear my mother's voice. "Ashteunne, comment allez-vous, mon petit chat...?_5_"_

_"Je suis malade, mama..._6_" I whispered, coughing._

_My mother kissed each of my cheeks, then lifted me out of my father's arms and into her own. _

Suddenly, my mind broke from that memory; it felt so real! Oh how I wish that my parents were still alive...

"What were you daydreaming about?" Cricket asked me, blinking her sapphire eyes.

"I...I was reflecting on a memory..." I whispered softly.

She gave me a concerned blink. "What happened?"

I couldn't even speak. Not one word.

Cricket's POV

I wanted to reach for Ash, an almost sad look on my face. It was as though I already knew what he might say if he would have answered my question. I wanted to reach, but I didn't. I'm nore really sure that he'd have liked me to...

"It's...it's alright...I've...learned to accept it. I know...I know the Sacred Treasures couldn't bring them back...but...I'm used to it now..." Ash whispered, his eyes looking down. "You get used to it after a few years...I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, having lost your parents as well..."

I felt a catching in my throat and warm tears running down my cheek. Ash smiled sadly as he finally stood up and wiped a few tears away from my eyes.

"You know...maybe we're a little more alike than I wanted to believe..." He whispered softly, his soft accent seeming almost comforting as he spoke. "I'm starting to realize it...I have to trust again if I'm going to survive, so I might as well trust one who is like me..."

I smiled weakly for a moment, then pulled Ash close, giving him the embrace that I'd meant to give him before, which he reciprocated. It was surprising, but I think this has been a catharsis of emotions for the both of us, and now I think the true experiment can really begin...

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1 "Comment je sais vous ne me rapporterez pas là?" - "How do I know you won't take me back there?"

2 "Ce qui?" - "What?"

3 "Tout seul comme moi" - "All alone like me..."

4 "Se repose...mon mioche familier..." - "Rest, my young child."

5 "comment allez-vous, mon petit chat...?" - "How are you, sweetie?"

6 "Je suis malade, mama." - "I am sick, mama."


End file.
